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Wilardo Adler is a man of many mysteries.
Well, Ashe would love to say he was, but sometimes things just don't go his way.
It's a shame, really. Everything was going according to plan — he had already gotten rid of Sirius prior, he was just another obstacle on his way to obtaining the Witch's Heart — until Claire entered the room, and all his success came crashing down, for one reason.
Because with Claire came Wilardo. With Wilardo came a few slaps across the face, his hair still hurting from being pulled so forcefully, and an overwhelming scent of blood disturbing his senses. With Wilardo also came you death-defying bastard leaving his lips… and an awful sense of closeness, with that gun tilting his chin up, and a blood-covered arm sneaking around his waist.
"Huh? That all you've got?" He hated the power he had over him. He hated how all he did wasn't enough for his wish. He hated how Wilardo was still alive, after something he wasn't supposed to survive under any circumstances — he hated how much he hated it. He hated hatred as a concept, and how much of a monster it made him.
…He hated how much he couldn't push Wilardo away, but he was defenseless, and Wilardo was inhumane, all the blood dripping down his head and the cracked chair discarded on the floor, so it would be wiser to entertain him for now. Yeah, yeah, that was it.
He pointed his knife at his neck.
"You're cute," Wilardo starts as he tilts Ashe's chin further up with his gun, and Ashe swallows, "Still thinking you could kill me. Really, really cute. Didn't you see how I just proved you otherwise?" Ashe growls, and Wilardo's hold around him just tightens, making him able to escape even less, "Heh, well, maybe you need more proof. As a researcher and all. Care for a sweet little dance with death?"
"The only thing I care about is your lifeless body on the floor," yet Ashe's fingers still find their way through Wilardo's as he takes a step back, and he follows.
"Too bad that's not what you're getting," and the shiver he gets through his spine from Wilardo's words against his ear isn't very pleasant, quite the contrary.
Wilardo's hands were cold, despite the heat of the fight, and the awkward threat of death lingering in the air. He almost resonated with it, in a way. He hates warmth since that day, for it took everything precious to him away. His heart felt cold, non-existant. Barely a shard still present, from how much he's thrown humanity away to be able to return back to what was once there.
Smelling Wilardo so close to him made him nauseous. He smelled like flowers, something he would compliment in any regular situation, but now said smell is mixed with blood and it makes him realize the weight of the situation once more. In any normal setting, they could dance like this while Ashe laughs and Wilardo could only muster an expression of mildly entertained. The thought itself amuses Ashe, as Wilardo seems like nobody to dance, but there's no reason lingering on it anymore. They're dangerously close, close to the Witch's Heart, close to sacrificing one another, close to their wishes.
Taking more steps through the room, swapping on guiding each other through the tension of their dance, he felt a specific kind of pain in Wilardo's eyes as he gazed at him. He wonders what his wish must be, for him to look so empty. He wonders why he feels with him, why that same painful expression causes deep agony within his heart, feeling it damage him physically. He wonders how long they'll both have to fight to get what they want.
Though while taking their last steps, filled with adrenaline, what they both know and want is a quick and not painful ending to this dance. An ending without any regrets. An ending befitting of the story.
Ashe's knife swings forward. Wilardo pulls the trigger.
…
…
…
Ashe Bradley was a man of many mysteries.
Well, Wilardo wouldn't like saying he was, but sometimes, as inhumane as they may be, sacrifices have to be made.
Kneeling down next to Ashe passed out on the floor, unaware of the fate that struck him, if he's alive or not, he whispers one last thing,
"...I'll join you, soon enough."